


Soldier: 76 x reader - A collection of oneshots

by ANTIvanilla



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Daddy Issues, Humor, Low-key self-indulgent, Other, Reader-Insert, Romance, Self-Insert, So far the reader is gender neutral, This game ruined my life, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7082944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANTIvanilla/pseuds/ANTIvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>UPDATE (12/29/2016): next oneshot done 50 %, however due to university schedule and my- detachment? of sorts, I cannot say when or if I will continue this collection - maybe soon ♥</p><p>A collection of oneshots<br/>not sure how short/long these will turn out<br/>so far I have 4-5 ideas, but who knows</p><p>NOTE:<br/>none of them are beta'd<br/>I'm a slow writer and as it in't my primary hobby I often lose focus so posting takes time pls be patient</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Daddy Issues

" _Whoaa that's sick!_ "  
  
" _Maybe I should let you upgrade my mech with some nice, new cannons, hehe!_ "  
  
The pride swelling in his broad chest was impossible to miss as Torbjörn puttered around with his newest prototype of a weapon in progress, a smug grin plastered widely over his face below the thick beard. Gathered around him were Lúcio, D.Va, Tracer and you while Mercy, Reinhardt and Genji stood a little offside, engrossed in their own conversation. The afore mentioned four were absolutely intrigued with whatever nifty machinery the stout Swede was working on, impressed and very, very curious as to what the gadget could do (which Torbjörn himself was not even entirely sure of).  
  
Fact was, it looked badass.  
  
And right now that was all Torbjörn cared about, bathing and soaking in the admiration his younger comrades were showering him with.

 

 

" _Does it work yet?_ " - " _Can I touch it?_ " - " _Are those levers for the launch of-_ "  
  
An exhilarated Tracer was hopping around the tiny man, bombarding him with questions as if she didn't need to breathe in-between. That kind of brisk, vigorous temper of hers sure was something else. Good thing almost everybody was used to it, otherwise the dwarfish man might've just imploded under her constant fire of words.  
  
" _I think your jabbering is a much stronger weapon than any of mine will ever be_ ", Torbjörn sighed with a brazen smirk directed at the brunette who now stopped and pushed her lower lip forward in a big pout, playfully offended by his mocking.  
  
" _At least I don't take all the time in the world to finish a job!_ ", she countered cheekily, referring to Torbjörn's 'It's done when it's done' attitude regarding completion dates.  
Only getting started now the short blonde barked another tease right back at her.  
  
You on the other hand watched your fellow Overwatch agents banter back and forth in delight, occasionally throwing in the one or other snappy comment at either side of the conversation to fan the embers.  
  
Eventually it all escalated into giggles and grumbles, several fingers prodding and probing the device and another ten trying to swat away the nosy hands to protect the precious prototype. Even D.Va and Lúcio were now tagging along in Tracer's game of unnerving the brawny engineer.

 

 

" _Weapons are not toys!_ ", boomed a gruff, deep voice suddenly through the room, bouncing off the walls and smacking all present upside the head.  
" _It could blow up the entire base! You are endangering everybody with your irresponsible behavior, get a grip!_ "  
  
Heads spun faster than the speed of light to face the white-haired ex-commander who stood in the door you had your back turned to, arms crossed and face grim like the sky during a thunderstorm (you swore you could even hear the thunder rumbling in the distance).  
  
Even the sidelines trio had their undivided attention focused on Soldier: 76, their expressions close to the pale, flat faces D.Va, Tracer, Lúcio and Torbjörn made at the obviously vexed tone to the tall man's voice.  
  
Nobody liked the poster boy of Overwatch mad.  
  
Nobody liked being the cause and focus of his anger either.  
  
And they had just been caught red-handed.  
  
Thoughts racing, minds scrambling to find something meaningful and conciliating to say, the agents stood there frozen in silence. Mercy and the other two simply waited it out, ready to intercept should somebody decide to respond with something particularly stupid.

 

 

" _Thanks for the lesson, dad_ ", came it from you first in a moment of thoughtlessness.

 

 

As soon as those words had left your lips you closed your mouth rapidly.  
  
Whoops.  
  
Yep, that certainly classified as something particularly stupid.  
  
Your reply left even the older agents speechless, wide-eyed stares flying from you to the soldier and back. And you could practically see the heat of oncoming rage bubbling up inside the middle-aged commander.  
  
Ever so slowly you turned your rigid body towards him now too, an awkward, twitchy smile playing weakly on your lips.  
  
Ooh boy, you had screwed up.  
  
You had screwed up bad.  
  
But somewhere in your now blank mind you high-fived yourself for that brilliant comeback.  
  
And secretly so did everyone else in the room.

 

 

" _You think this is a joke?!_ "  
  
His harsh voice hit you like a brick.  
  
" _You could've killed us all because of your childish foolery and now you're disrespecting your senior? Wipe that stupid grin off your face! You're a full-fledged adult and not some 5-year-old rugrat! Show some maturity for fuck's sake! I will not have you mess around as you please and tolerate your impudence!_ "

While Soldier: 76 continued the roaring, military-style tirade as if you were a rookie recruit the rest of the present crew shrunk quietly in their places.  
  
Mercy pinched the bridge of her nose in a mix of exhaustion and exasperation, Genji observed everything seemingly calm but thanked the gods mentally for not being the target of this rant, Reinhardt silently worried for your well-being, Torbjörn could do nothing but watch and the three younger delinquents were mere memories and ghosts, stock-still and strung to breaking point yet unspeakably grateful that you were taking the beating for them.  
  
As for you, you bore it all with a sense of humor.  
  
Naturally you weren't naive to a point where it would rile the white-haired man up even more but you weren't showing him fear either - despite the nearly brutal volume of his voice that strained your eardrums and the crude words he relentlessly stabbed you with.  
  
Every word, howsoever cutting and coldhearted, you accepted and absorbed, your eyes locked straight with his visor and the old, noble blue orbs lying beneath. You still held your smile for him, of a different nature now though, instead of awkward and shaky there was composure and patience and an odd kind of warmth to it, all wrapped up in a layer of mildly pleading remorse.  
  
It was a smile that asked for forgiveness through its airy innocence, an expression that could be compared to the notorious 'puppy eyes'.  
  
Another might have been rattled by the ferocious vehemence radiating off Soldier: 76 while he scolded the living daylights out of them, but not you.  
  
You knew better than to judge him based on his grouchy, brusque and almost unfeeling daily demeanor.  
  
You knew deep inside his chest beat a heart of pure gold, the heart of a hero, an undying force he could deny as many times as he wanted but at the end of the day he would never abandon those in need.  
  
You knew he would always go out of his way to do what is right, to bring justice even if he was not asked or thanked for his actions.  
  
And exactly this knowledge had taken away all fright you could feel towards this man.  
  
Initially, when you had first met the ex-strike-commander of Overwatch, you had been absolutely terrified the first time you witnessed his anger. He was everything you didn't want to cross paths with and thus made it a point to avoid the gruff man.  
  
A few missions and your fear morphed into insightful admiration and sooner or later you could not escape a certain fondness you felt for him.  
  
He would never hurt you, he would threaten it, yes, many, many times (because you could be a real rascal, let's be honest) , but never had he laid a single finger on you (or any other comrade for that matter).  
  
Thus, even though you realized you had struck several sensitive topics with him by calling him 'dad', you knew his anger would quickly soften into a few hours of double the normal grouchiness and a few deadly glares at your person but nothing worse.  
  
And even Soldier: 76 knew he couldn't be angry with you for long.  
  
Right now though, he was.  
  
And very much so.

 

 

" _I'm not anybody's 'dad'! Whatever gave you the idea it would be reasoned and just to call me dad, you better put it right out of your mind again or next time I hear you calling me names you'll answer to my pulse rifle, understood?_ "  
  
" _The nerve of it! Can't believe I have to deal with such childish behavior, back in my days we would've kicked their asses to China and back ..._ "  
  
The last few sentences were not more than muttered growling of the sour commander who was already surlily stomping off, still fuming madly about the things he had to put up with these days.  
  
His heavy, violent footsteps could be heard through the entire facility, or so you were sure of listening to the massive echo they left shaking the walls down the hallway.  
  
For another good minute the room lay in dead silence as if sound itself was scared of him coming back to throw another tantrum.  
  
It seemed as though nobody even dared to breathe.  
  
Once the deafening trail of footfall had disappeared, everybody turned to you.

 

 

" _Thanks for the lesson, dad._ "  
  
Reinhardt's throaty, raucous voice imitated your wording exactly and rung through the quiet around you.

 

 

Suddenly a spate of laughter burst out flooding the air, hearty and truly amused. It pushed away the eerie silence that had followed the angry lecture and saturated the room in ease and joviality, immediately coaxing your tense body into a state of relief. Even Mercy and Genji were chuckling along with the other five that completely lost it, finding your little heroic slip-up far too entertaining.  
  
Seeing them all tickled pink eventually tore down the last wall of apprehension in your bones and you fell an easy pray to the infective laughter around you, joining in with your fellow agents to indulge in lighthearted, silly hilarity.

 

" _O. M. G. I can't believe you just did that!_ "  
  
D.Va was holding her stomach from blithe cramps, nearly toppling over in laughter.  
  
" _You sure got some guts calling him dad_ ", Lúcio praised with a wink and nudged your shoulder, wiping away a tear from the corner of his eye and sighed contently at his diaphragm protesting.  
  
Smirking breathlessly back at him you supported yourself with your hands stemmed on your knees, hoping to fend off the pain that was slowly sneaking up on your sides.  
You really hadn't thought these guys deemed your impoliteness such fun.  
  
Actually you had been convinced you'd hear more criticism from them, especially from Mercy and Reinhardt who'd been with Soldier: 76 prior to the fall of Overwatch.  
  
Reinhardt was utterly ecstatic though, you had never heard him crack up this much. But he was the one howling the loudest.  
  
" _Hahaha, 'dad' she said! Splendid, splendid!_ ", sounded his guttural laughter and he gave you a delighted glance, " _You sure know how to entertain people, kid! About time someone had a little fun with that old grump! He needs to lighten up!_ "  
  
" _You know he won't let you live that down anytime soon, right?_ ", Mercy chimed in gently, hiding the last few giggles behind her hand, attempting herself at an accusatory gaze to chide you, but her amusement betrayed those intentions.  
  
You inhaled deeply to steady your voice from laughter before giving an answer.  
  
" _Yeeaah,_ ", you drawled out, mentally whimpering at the thought of it, but reverted back to a cheekier tone, " _but, to be honest, that was worth the consequences though. He does act like the team dad sometimes._ "  
  
Approving of your self-confidence, your fellow agents smiled at you.  
  
With a wide grin you high-fived Lúcio next and bumped wrists, receiving a jog with the hip from Tracer standing next to you, coupled with a bright smile.  
  
Gradually you all began to recover from your little spree and went back to your usual ways, finishing tasks or just chatting with each other. Your iconic nickname for the ex-commander should be the number one hot topic among the agents of Overwatch for the next few days though and the crew could never get tired of hearing that story over and over again.

 

 

The conversations during your collective dinner that evening weren't any different.  
  
Soldier: 76 hadn't shown at all for the evening meeting where you simply sat together with those present during dinner time and overall he hadn't been seen by anyone the whole afternoon post your little 'dad incident'.  
  
It was to no surprise though, Mercy and Reinhardt had been predicting that reaction of his out loud for hours.  
  
You figured he was simply too peeved by your insulting nickname that he took time for himself to blow off steam and have you out of his sight to avoid more irritation. He really probably didn't want to see you right now, given the way he went off on you earlier, and you understood fully. No need to take offense.  
  
You debated an apology with yourself while you picked at your salad and fished out your favorite ingredients first, stuffing your cheeks with pleasure.  
  
Maybe it was better to say your sorries after all. It wasn't meant hurtful or scathing at all, it had just slipped out of you like that, you hadn't even really meant to make that comment in the first place ... but if it really stung him so badly you definitely owed him a heartfelt apology.  
  
His age was never one of your concerns, you liked and respected him the way he was and the fact that the gorgeous blonde hair of his youth had already bleached into an elderly white and his hairline receded noticeably did not bother your in the slightest (you couldn't even believe your own thoughts, never had you imagined you'd be this fond of a much older man, made you seriously question your preferences).  
  
That in your mind you sometimes labeled the veteran soldier the 'team dad' was much more rooted in his behavior and interactions with the other agents than in his age.  
  
But, honestly, to you his daddy qualities were always something you found astonishingly lovable.  
  
As did you his (in his opinion untrue) 'hard shell, soft core'-attitude.  
  
But that was another topic.

 

 

Spacing out chasing your thoughts you missed the entire animated re-narration of the hilarious confrontation a few hours prior to dinner delivered by Torbjörn (and Tracer occasionally popping into his sentences to toss her own). 

Once again your foolish bravery was a scream for all those that hadn't heard of it yet and echoing laughter swept over the long table you all sat on within a minute.  
  
Only when the guffawing Reinhardt on the next seat slapped his enormous hand onto your back as a praise you fell out of your trance and quickly caught up with the happenings, losing yourself in laughter anew instead.  
  
For a while you quipped with the other agents, earning yourself even more mirth. Gladly you let the share in amusement consume your worrying mind, greatly relieved that apart from Soldier: 76 himself nobody else held the name-calling against you. Plus, admittedly, you sort of enjoyed being the focus of positive attention for a change. Sort of.

 

 

Over all the jokes and banter your appetite and previous thoughts had been pushed aside completely and it took a while until you remembered you really needed to pay the bathroom a visit.  
  
Excusing yourself in leftover chuckles from the last pun Tracer had just thrown into the cackling, overjoyed circle you strolled out of them room.  
  
You really loved spending peaceful time with your fellow Overwatch agents. When there was no emergency, no battle, no dispute, when time together attained a mild vibe of normality, almost as if none of you were warriors, as if you were all just good, old friends enjoying each other's company. Those moments you treasured the most.  
  
The corridor was dimly lit on your way to the lavatory. It wasn't very far from the cafeteria and you could still hear the now dull reverberation of buoyant conversations at the dinner table following you down the hallway.  
  
Content you smiled to yourself, eyes soft and placid.  
  
Days like this you'd never want to miss, not for a thing in the world.

 

 

Early on your ears picked up the sound of leisured but still firm footsteps ahead of you and your focus shifted from the muffled noise at your back to the one in front as you attentively scanned the area in reflex.  
  
The robust, tall man who turned around the corner a few doors north of you next led to a rapid swing of mood.  
  
His white hair gleamed warmly in the faint lights.  
  
It struck you as odd that he wasn't wearing his visor like he usually did nearly 98% of the day, but you brushed it off since it was getting late and he probably just wanted to let the day fade away in comfort like everybody else did. Even an at all times serious and prepped man like him needed his time-outs. Not intending to ruin today's for him, you drew a mellow smile.  
  
You sensed the slight awkwardness settling in the air around you as you came closer, hoping your smile was enough to keep any soreness from earlier at bay, the last thing you wanted, for both him and yourself, was to tick him off even more. Two times in one day would definitely not be a good idea. And you really wished to stay on good terms with Solider: 76, even if you drove him to exasperation occasionally. You really did love to jar on his nerves from time to time, never did you do it maliciously, if you decided to annoy him you carried out your mission in a loving way. It wasn't that you wanted to see him mad, it was much more that you wanted to see him get out of his cozy, old shell of a grouch. And it brought you great pleasure whenever the aging soldier played that little game of yours.  
  
He probably even knew that it was all just a big tease anyway, you figured.

 

 

Clearly being able to make out the royal blue of his proficient eyes now you bolstered your smile a little and met his gaze affectionately.  
  
In a split second you found yourself trapped against the wall.

 

 

It had only taken a single, resolute motion of the by far stronger man and your back was plastered against the metal wall, frozen stiff in surprise.  
  
Staring wide-eyed all words, thoughts and even breath had been knocked out of you efficiently.  
  
It was a very compromising position you found yourself in, no defenses for yourself anymore as the grim veteran stood not an arm length in front of you, boring holes into your now kinda jittery frame.  
  
You had not a single clue what had gotten into him. All you could reason yourself was that he was still angry as hell and would once again wipe the floors with you for it or maybe your gaze or smile had simply sparked roaring aversion inside of him. Either way you looked at it, he was mad.  
  
Shame, you had tried so hard to earn his pardon for a respite.

 

 

Preparing your mind to be chewed out for the second time you were squirming and sweating awkwardly in your place.  
  
God, you really should've said sorry right away, now look what it brought onto you.  
  
You weren't necessarily scared but you certainly disliked the look on his face. His brows drawn together, painting the wrinkles on his forehead a darker shade he was frowning deeply, his expression announcing the raging storm that was pulling closer by the second. He was, undeniably, a highly intimidating person if he really wanted to be. The subdued lights around you did not exactly provide redress either, actually they made him appear a lot scarier the way their shadows danced on his skin and kept his face dangerously clouded. The scariest part about it all was your inability to read or interpret anything into the stare he pinned you with. You could normally take rough guesses at what was going on in that man's head, if not always accurate, at least you had a sketchy idea.  
  
Right now your head was just a gaping void.  
  
All hope to get off lightly abandoned you, leaving nothing but a bundle of raw nerves that was you behind. You had already begun to scold yourself when his voice forced the entirety of your attention on him.

 

 

" _Don't you EVER call me dad again._ "  
  
His demand was clear, as was his low, raspy voice.  
  
The warm breath you felt flashing over your skin in a fleeting moment sent chills crawling up your veins, freezing your blood and cutting off all of your functions.  
  
Had it not been for the prior clash between the two of you you had perhaps found this situation bewitching rather than worrisome, having him so close to yourself, but as things were your mind didn't even dare take a single step in that direction.  
  
You weren't sure if he expected a 'Yes, Sir! ' from you or an apology, you weren't much sure of anything right now. His tormenting silence and piercing eyes did not help.  
  
Robbed of your voice you stood there with tension gnawing at your bones.  
  
Not for a second you allowed your eyes to stray from his. They picked up every howsoever tiny motion or change in his expression, observing his features closely and etching their picture deep into your memory.  
  
Your heart beat in such a racing, banging rhythm you felt it up in the back of your throat.  
  
Your lungs were tight in your chest as each breath you attempted to take got caught up by the beat in your throat.  
  
After what seemed to you like an eternity, he spoke up again.

 

 

" _This is why you shouldn't call me dad_ ", he breathed out in a deep growl that reverberated through your guts, " _a father wouldn't do this-_ "

 

 

Suddenly the world blurred.  
  
Everything around you disappeared the moment you felt his scarred lips crash against yours.  
  
The back of your head smacked against the wall gracelessly as he pushed you hard. Flush against the metal facade behind you your eyes were squeezed shut with force. There was no feeling in your limbs, as if they were utterly nonexistent, all the more was what was left of your body tingling and aching in a heat you couldn't pinpoint the origins of, even the inside of your head felt on fire, parching, sweltering fire that eradicated your sense of orientation and time.  
  
There was not a thought in your blazing mind, emptied and absurd. You tried holding on but you fell further and further into disregard of your lacking sense, far too distracted by the rough lips devouring yours.  
  
The kiss was just like him. Gruff and raw he forced his lips on you and left no space for objection, his lips were, against all odds, soft though, matching perfectly with yours. He barely allowed you to breathe, claiming your breath mostly for himself as if he had to assert something with you although he knew very well that you respected not one more than him, unquestioned with blind trust and loyalty. His brows furrowed more as the kiss lasted, he seemed upset and yet not at all, the urgent demand with which he pressed himself against you giving him away. There was more to this than just anger or the intention to prove a point, so much even your muddled, messy mind could tell. Brusquely he took your lips again and again until he could tell you were absolutely breathless.  
  
As if he had won a fight, he spared you then.  
  
A moment longer and you had surrendered yourself entirely to him, wrapping your arms around his broad chest and pulling him in close where not even a piece of paper fit between you.

 

 

Both gasping and struggling for air you now stood there, your eyes still closed.  
  
Your face was glowing crimson from the heat and exhaustion the kiss' intensity had hit you with.  
  
For a timeless moment there was nothing but the sound of your heavy breaths mixing together while your heart threatened to burst right out of your chest. You were fearing for the safety of your rib cage as hard as it was slamming against it from the inside.  
  
Only now sensitivity returned and poured down on you abruptly. Your knees were made out of jelly, it was a miracle you still stood upright.  
  
Finally risking to open your eyes you looked at the broken-winded, slightly disheveled Soldier: 76 in front of you, taking in the sight before letting your orbs stray to the ground where they rested.  
  
A smirk stole onto your lips.

 

 

" _Well_ ", you exhaled rather than spoke, your voice hushed and thin.  
  
" _Okay then ... I won't call you dad ever again._ "

 

 

Barely registering it at the edge of his consciousness immense satisfaction rolled through Soldier: 76 like an enormous wave.

 

 

" _I'll call you daddy instead._ "

 

 

The mirth in your voice was unmistakable, so was the cheeky grin that spread over your face from ear to ear now.  
  
Soldier: 76 though didn't react at all.  
  
That phrase had ultimately blown his fuses, he blanked out, staring down at the ground with no emotion stirring in his features at all.  
  
The moment he managed to recollect himself though you clearly caught on a distinct but colorless flush reflected in his mien and smiled even wider.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 76 is undeniably everyone's dad whoever disagrees with me stop playing Overwatch right now and shame on you


	2. In The Heat Of Battle

Violently your breath wracked your body.

Lungs burning and throat dry you rushed around the upcoming corner.

Your mind was a blur in which you desperately tried to grasp a clear thought but panic heisted most of them, leaving you alone with adrenaline racing your bloodstream and paranoia crawling up your back.

This was no good.

 

 

Digging your fingernails into your palm you sprinted down the corridor, in your right hand one of your bombs. The gun you originally wielded had run out of ammo far too quickly and with no chance of recharging you had abandoned it early on as it was only slowing you down.

You felt quite naked and vulnerable without it, but your bombs had to do now.

Hopefully they'd be enough to defend yourself, otherwise ...

No, no you didn't want that!

There was no way you'd let yourself be eliminated that easy.

If you'd go down, you'd go down swinging!

 

 

Exhaustion was clinging to your legs like rocks chained to them but you pushed on, resolutely ignoring your burning muscles.

Your entire body was on fire, aching and protesting against the way you abused it for your safety, every single limb, even the fingertip of your tiny pinky, begging you to pause. It was a thing of impossibility though, seeing as you had to always keep moving unless you wanted to be shot within the next minute. You really needed to find cover, you were a far too easy target right now and could be hit at any time from any angle for all you knew.

Shit.

All this hadn't been a good idea.

Sharp pain struck through your chest and you squirmed, nearly doubling over in your haste. You were reaching your limits, this wasn't your field of expertise, not at all, and your body made this painfully clear to you.

Should you get through this you'd definitely be sore for the next week, so much you could tell.

 

 

Screams resounded from somewhere in the facility, their blood-curdling echoes ringing in your ears, seeping into your mind, spurring your rush of adrenaline. Someone was there, someone you probably really didn't wanna run into right now.

Through the next door you passed by an unconscious Lúcio lying there on the dirty ground, drenched and motionless and your paranoia went through the roof.

Shit, shit.

He was down already?

God, this really wasn't good at all.

You were sweating bullets like crazy, your shirt grossly damp from the salty liquid. Exertion and dread had your body temperature shooting higher with every further step you took and you could bet the collapse was not too far ahead anymore. Once you'd have pushed your body too far beyond its limitations you would certainly just drop flat on the ground then and there without the tiniest bit of strength left and would be forced to watch as your persecutors found and ended you. Running really was not necessarily one of your strong points, nor was shooting. Generally your combat skills left much to be desired, really.

This is why you were NOT one of the field agents flashed it through your head in a frustrated tone.

You could be sitting in your great, big armchair scribbling away or reading something right now, but no, no it just had to come to this.

If you could just rewind time like Tracer, you'd certainly make some different choices that led to all this.

You should probably work on your stamina nevertheless though.

But no time for chiding, you needed to save your ass right now.

 

 

Just a few minutes prior you had successfully taken out Mercy and Torbjörn. The latter only by sneaking up on him like the little devious troublemaker you always were, but to be honest hitting him from the front side proved problematic since he had his aggravating turrets firing per second and as if the constant dodging and spying around corners to check for his dumb machines wasn't treading on you enough, actually landing a hit on him was another tedious story.

Now that the two, especially Mercy in this case, were gone though, you had become the new #1 priority target.

Last time you checked you had Tracer right on your tail and two gun barrels trained on your head.

You hadn't spotted or heard her in a while now ever since you started your marathon through the hallway system of the gigantic building and sent highly indebted quick prayers heavenwards each minute you were unmolested by her.

You knew however that, her being the Tracer she is, the athletic brunette could pop up next to you in the blink of an eye if she wanted to.

Curse her ability to zip herself anywhere she wanted!

 

 

The bellowing sounds of gunshots suddenly erupted in the large meeting room just a short gangway away you whizzed by and brutally tore through the otherwise silent area, sending you into a state of heightened senses and great tension.

You never stopped running though, already so far past your durability limit that the wheezy, dehydrated breaths barely supplying your body with oxygen went by you unnoticed.

Clutching one of your bombs tighter in anxiety until your knuckles shone white through your skin you reached another intersection of the endless corridors. Through the door to your right you only heard D.Va cursing heatedly, something about Tracer, who had apparently hit her with the gunshots earlier, using hacks and how it was unfair.

You could taste the salt on your tongue.

At the same time though you realized this meant that the orange jumpsuit lady was way too close for comfort and you rapidly made for the overhang platform of the staircase to your left.

 

 

Prying around the corner first to not run straight into the arms of an enemy you eventually reached the internal balcony safely.

Your steps were absolutely inaudible while you slowly, warily so, skulked towards the edge, holding your breath the moment you dared sticking your head over the metal handrail.

 

 

What you saw there spread a devilish, cheeky smirk over your face.

 

 

Right below you on the ground floor stood a certain white-haired grump sporting his usual combat outfit, the bright red 76 beaming up at you like the headlights of a car.

You took a brief moment to marvel at the number, or rather the broad, strong back it adorned - you really had a weak spot for his back side, for whatever weird, fetishistic reason, you absurdly enjoyed watching his back and the distinct V-shape his shoulders and waist formed.

Shaking yourself out of your silent swooning you dragged your focus back to the task.

Luckily, despite all the time you had towered above him by now, the old soldier had yet to notice you, still completely unaware of your presence (which was a small miracle given his training and reflexes).

Jackpot! This was your chance!

You certainly had no shot in a fair one-on-one, but as things were right now you estimated your percentages in the positives.

Barely you kept yourself from snickering at your impish plan as you got your bombs ready.

Time to make the best of your advantage.

 

 

Soundlessly two of your projectiles hailed down from above like fat raindrops on mother earth in autumn. Your mischievously glinting eyes watched the drop excitedly while your heartbeat seemed to slow and die down entirely for the time it took for the bombs to hit their poor target.

Crashing loudly onto his shoulders and back they exploded with a blast.

Now there was only silence.

 

 

Soldier: 76 remained statically frozen on the spot while you buried your teeth in your lower lip, unsure whether you should be celebrating loudly or make a run for it.

In the end you just stood there, observing the ex-commander with a mix of rigidity and elation boiling in your stomach.

Maybe, just maybe, this hadn't been one of your smartest ideas.

When you heard the animalistic depths of his growl and were met with his crimson visor locked on you, your previously oh-so grand, valiant heart dropped into your boots within a split second.

Definitely not one of your smartest ideas!

Now you realized that you had drawn a very fatal, very potent foe into this fight with your daredevil action, a foe who had absolutely nothing to do with all this just mere seconds ago and was now certainly out for your head. Smart move, including the wrath of Soldier: 76.

Oh, you were so, so dead.

Making wide, apologetic eyes down at the tall man and gifting him a jittery smile you spun on your heel and ran.

 

 

It seemed as though your lungs were not allowed a break today.

Gasping and panting by turns you were limping along down the wide hallway, eyes set on the large door a few meters ahead.

For quite a while you had triumphantly achieved to either hide or flit away to the next sheltering object, impressively dodging the grim veteran's shots. You deserved a medal for your evasive maneuvers, really, because escaping from the kind of military-trained man Soldier: 76 was, certainly did not qualify as a piece of cake.

At some point though you had run out of things to hide behind and were left with the only option of dashing through a plain, vacant, and unfortunately to your distress, rather long corridor.

Never had you undergone such an adrenalin-fuelled moment than making your way down that hallway. Right now you weren't even really sure if you remembered all of it, you had been in such a rush, such ecstasy that most of what you experienced passed by as obscure and abstract pictures flashing in and out of your mind.

During that time of flight you had been hit after all.

Your right shoulder and left thigh were now slowly turning numb from the impact and adding up on all your exhaustion and the continuous thrill and stress you had gone through it was enough to slow you down considerably, leaving you wide open and ready for him to finish.

With one last uproar of your accumulated strength you made it into the glass wall front room at the end of your path though.

 

 

" _Not the face! Anything but the face!_ ", you pleaded, your meek voice shaking as you fell to your knees and flipped onto your back, holding your middle, the other hand up flat in a pacifying gesture.

" _If you must do it, please make it quick-_ "

Towering above you menacingly was now Soldier: 76, rifle in hand and fixed on you.

You knew he was not going to spare you, that chance lay 1 to 100000000 and mentally you braced yourself for the force of his shot, squeezing your eyes tensely.

Not ten seconds later your ears caught the short glimpse of metallic clicking the trigger produced and immediately you were bombarded with a single, large projectile.

After his effortless bullseye the aging ex-commander leisurely put up his rifle again as if it weighed nothing at all in his hands. He gave your body on the ground a last glance, puffing gruffly in annoyance.

 

 

" _Ouch- oh my god, you JERK! Right in the face, oh god, aah- ouch, ouch, ouch-_ "

Pushing yourself off the ground to sit up you patted and petted your forehead in pain and groaned lengthily, pulling the most butthurt grimace in all of history at the man in front of you.

" _Do you realize how much it hurts when a balloon bursts right in your face??? Even if it's just a balloon it hurts like craaaaap-_ ", you went on, dragging out your words whilst trying to lessen or at least ignore your stinging face.

Desperately you rubbed over your forehead.

Soldier on the other hand just countered with a disinterested shrug.

" _You asked for it, you know that._ "

Huffing out a breath through your nostrils you shot him a glare that was obviously not truly meant as hostile as you made it out to be.

With you and him it was always this way.

And everybody knew you never meant any harm.

 

 

Animated giggling and laughter rang through the room as D.Va, Tracer and Lúcio came strolling in, amused and very much alive.

" _Ooh, seems like the old man got you after all~_ ", the short gamer purred teasingly, eyeing the red mark extending over your forehead and nose, " _He got you good, hehe~_ "

Facing her smug smile you only rolled your eyes.

" _Says the one who got hit on the butt_ ", quipped Tracer into the conversation and pinched the other brunette where she got hit earlier, receiving a searing glare on D.Va's part while the tan young man next to them just added onto his laughter.

" _What're you laughing at, Lúcio? I saw you dead on the ground soaking in a whole lake!_ ", you fired at your dreadlocked friend who was instantly shut up and gaped at you in fake offense, pulling a wide smirk from your lips.

 

 

" _Hmm, seems like you took a few hits too though_ ", the bubbly British girl mulled over aloud with her gloved hand cupping her chin, inspecting the tough senior from head to toe.

He was indeed also sodden with ice-cold water as well, especially his trademark leather jacket dribbled tiny droplets down around his feet and his greying locks were messily stuck to his forehead.

The dead silence and accompanying stare she was graced with from Soldier: 76 following that statement made her swallow the next witty line on her tongue and take a step back, away from the white-haired man just in case - after all she assumed he still carried some leftover water bombs in that rifle of his.

 

 

Yeah, the Overwatch agents had been swayed into a water fight.

The sun was mercilessly slamming a scorching 40 °C (104 °F) down on earth today and the air conditioning system of the base had decided to malfunction on a beautiful occasion such as this.

Unable to further endure the heat by doing absolutely nothing, you and your three partners in crime had prepared a ridiculous amount of water bombs and super soakers, prompting everyone present to a challenge.

It took a straining 30 minutes, but you achieved your goal and gave the starting signal not much later.

In the end everyone had a blast.

Being utterly soaked meant defeat for the player and thus they were prohibited from shooting or bombarding anyone still in-game (most of those eliminated just went to drink some cold juice or ice tea while waiting in a safe, off-limits room for the rest of the crew to finish their little game).

(Turns out playing a sort of shooter game with the Overwatch gang becomes a really dangerously serious competition and is advised against.)

 

 

" _Yeah,_ ", you began to explain, gradually getting on your feet again and making faces at the now skin-tight clothes on you, " _I sorta ambushed him from above at the balcony, heh!_ "

You grinned proudly at the Brit and had it reflected right back at you together with a (hidden from Soldier: 76's sight) thumbs up.

Said soldier rolled his blue eyes behind the visor and shook his head lightly, disapproving of your tactics and yet admitting defeat in frustrated obstinacy. He still couldn't believe you got him with his guard down just like that.

" _But at least you all had fun, right?_ ", Tracer beamed a jolly smile at the ex-commander and let it wander from face to face all the way around.

Snorting a very brief chuckle, Soldier: 76 smirked behind his mechanical mask and shifted his weight from one foot onto the other.

" _I guess so._ "

 

 

Satisfaction spread among the agents of Overwatch and soon you split up to either get yourselves dried or simply new clothes.

Suddenly however, while trailing your gaze after Tracer and D.Va leaving for their quarters, your eyes detected a movement in front of you and darted around again just to end up glued on the middle-aged ex-commander.

For he had just begun to unzip his 76 jacket and roll his shoulders, lazily shrugging off the leather piece and catching it with one hand.

Throwing it over his shoulder he rolled his head next and straightened his shoulders, stretching his back a little and sighing contently in that low, vibrating voice of his you loved so much.

You were staring, you knew, but how could you avert your eyes from such a delicious sight right in front of you.

For a moment you forgot all your dignity and propriety, absorbing every movement and every chiseled muscle you could make out, basking in this rare occurrence and sending blessings to the three others for unrelentingly unnerving the other agents with the water fight plan until they gave in.

Had it not been for the heat and that dumb idea you'd have missed the time of your life, first drenching him in water and now watching him move in that tight undershirt.

You weren't even mad at him for the headshot anymore.

Nor did you really care about losing either.

This, this was your victory.

And you wallowed in it like the gushing pig you were.

 

 

Picking his rifle back up Soldier: 76 now also took off to get changed and proper again.

Little did you know he left with a smirk on his scarred lips, fully aware of everything he had done to you just now.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick thing I needed to write out because it was so daaaaaamn hot today and I was dying  
> I'll tackle the next (kinda more serious) oneshot soon !


	3. [...] "But today is a gift. That is why it is called the present."

 

"Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why it is called the present. "

 

 

Slily you eyed the greying tuft of the ex-strike-commander.

Should he move his focus, suspecting or feeling a pair of eyes creeping on his back your gaze flew back to whatever you were pretending to do, successfully avoiding a bust.

After letting his eyes wander around the room, squinting at everyone present as if to say he was on their tail, Soldier: 76 would then return to his own task at hand and, lucky for you, be distracted long enough for you to pry at him again.

All day it had been going back and forth like this.

You were more than relieved to have dodged his suspicion time and time again as you really did not fancy being questioned, no, straight up interrogated by the former military associate. Just the thought back to the times where he had knocked you out with questions for having done something stupid (or planning to) let you shudder.

Although you couldn't deny part of you enjoyed it, too.

His attention, that was.

His persistence - well, that too.

You were a simple person with simple desires, even just spending some time in the same room as him made you happy. He was gone too often or busy with something he would not spill information about, thus you cherished every moment you had.

Even if that meant grating on him a little (or a lot).

 

Come and gone your collective lunch you finally saw your chance.

The aging soldier had excused himself after discussing something with Mercy and Reinhardt and headed to his quarters, not unnoticed by you as you had your attention on him for the entirety of this day.

When he just left without anything special happening, you frowned after him.

Not even a single word - not from him or anyone else.

It bothered you visibly how utterly normal and leisurely today had been even though today was an important date. It seemed as if it didn't matter at all. Not even aunt Mercy and uncle Reinhardt (or so you labelled them in your head) had acted any different than on other days.

Odd. And very dissatisfactory.

Mulling over your thoughts you still stared out the cafeteria door, squeezing and chewing on your lips in a huff.

This wasn't right!

There had to be more to this!

And if no one else was gonna get up off their butts then you certainly would!

 

In hindsight all this hadn't been too unforeseen though.

A week ago when you had talked to Mercy and Reinhardt about today, they had agreed to your proposal but warned you all the same, prepping you for the lack of enthusiasm (which you had plenty of for today though), explaining to you that it had faded away over the years with the help of Soldier: 76 himself who stifled all effort for this cause with great vehemence.

It was absurd to you and you voiced that opinion right away, earning concerned miens from your seniors. Before they could say anything to hush your intentions further, you already poured out your heart in an emotional speech.

Hearing the tenacious affection your every word was laced with they exchanged purposeful gazes, Mercy and Reinhardt having their own soundless debate for a moment, but once the brawny German pulled out his heart-warming smirk even the blonde doctor gave in to the tender smile that snuck on her lips.

It was just too charming, your dedication to the lost cause that was that grim old man.

The way you fought for him behind his back and without him ever knowing and rarely aware was, truly, charming.

Like a fresh spring breeze you swept through the base with every step you took, whirling around all the Overwatch agents as if inviting them to a senseless, carefree dance, far from all worry, all the misery and bad in the world. Your sheer presence was like cotton clouds engulfing the room, deflecting anything negative and malevolent, returning a touch of childish innocence and merriment, that one nostalgic feeling everybody knows and everybody yearns for to return to them once more, knowing full well that this would stay a romantic's dream.

You came with a different atmosphere around you than the other agents.

With you it was like breathing fresh air in a room full of stifling, rotten routine that had settled lazily over all the years.

And none of your fellow agents could lie about enjoying your presence.

Even if you did not get along equally well with every single one of them, that quality of yours was something they all cherished.

And the one receiving most of you was the man once called Morrison, whether he sought it or not.

Had he ever thanked you for it?

No.

But did that stop you from showering him with your uplifting lightheartedness in hopes of one day catching just the glimpse of a genuine smile on his lips?

No, not in a thousand years.

And you were content this way. Even if he was not as easily read as D.Va, Tracer or Lúcio who, really, wore their hearts on their sleeves, never hiding the joy coursing through them, you saw no reason to give up on him.

Even a socially withdrawn, sullen man like him had to feel light some time or other.

And you were his personal predator, watching and waiting to pounce on him in a joyous moment.

 

As you went through the memories of that day a week back you held a soft smile, eyes giving away that the mind behind them was in a place far away from the now - a place with him.

Your thoughts had long spiraled down into the depths of your heart, indulging in all kinds of memories bubbling up into your conscience now.

He was a good man.

You had seen him smash in the teeth of criminals or blast his rifle endlessly in a fight, yet nevertheless he was a good man to you.

His heart was in the right place. And there was something to it, something to him, a something you never saw in anyone, but saw in him.

This beaten, bruised, war-worn heart of his that held so much good, so much hope, so much light.

It was unparalleled.

He was unparalleled.

To you and to the world, there was no match for the man he had been and the man he was now, too.

He would always be a hero.

You would never allow him to fade into the sepia-toned pages of some dusty history book; because he was so much more than he made himself to be and was so much less than what the public had forced on him decades ago.

And for this you wanted him to be happy.

Especially today.

 

Leaving the cafeteria not long after Soldier: 76 but long enough not to stir any suspicion you took a slight detour to pop in and out of your own room, tracking the way up towards his quarters now.

Despite the depressing warnings you had received, you were excited.

A whole month you had taken to figure out something nice and when you finally did, when you finally convinced the rest to help, there had been nothing you looked forward to more than this day.

You knew it was perfect and you were convinced he'd think the same.

Interrupting your gradually quickening steps with skips you sauntered through the hallways.

You'd prove them all wrong!

For sure you would, after all this time around you had been then one planning, you were here.

You firmly believed this would change everything.

Not that you thought yourself a faultless saint, but you had this feeling, you had your courage and leaked information from the other agents that the old soldier did in fact appreciate you.

And do justice to that image of yours you would.

 

Smile broader than the Cheshire Cat's and brighter than the twinkling stars on a pitch-black night you bobbed up and down in front of the thick electric door that was now the only thing separating you and the former Overwatch commander.

Your excitement grew more and more with each passing second although each time you thought it could not get any more intense. Your insides tingled everywhere, you felt giddy with pleasure, feverishly holding yourself back for a moment longer before smacking your fist against the door in a few polite, deep knocks that echoed lengthily through the otherwise forlorn hallway.

When the door slid aside and revealed the inquisitive, slightly grim expression of Soldier: 76 down on you as if you had just interrupted him doing something important (which you probably had), you bypassed his discontent with big, shimmering eyes.

Perplexed by the look you gave him his eyebrows twitched closer together in puzzled uncertainty of the cause. His glumness drained into a face that gave the impression he'd rather run than hear your objective of coming to see him.

Of course he was a big, buff soldier and would never, but you sometimes instilled a necessity of flight in him as you were one of the few people in his life he could not keep at bay in any way, even when he tried, you always found a secret passage winding around the walls he planted so rigorously - and that made him uneasy.

Your unforeseeable friskiness and well-hidden motivations would one day drive him insane.

And he loved it. (But hush!)

 

For a while there was only silence.

Silence and your smile boring into him relentlessly.

 

Good lord, what had he done to deserve it this time.

Exasperation reflecting on his features Soldier: 76 ran a hand through his face slowly, starting from his chin upwards until he ruffled through the grey strands framing his forehead.

Inwardly bracing himself for whatever mischief you had concocted this time he sternly held your gaze.

He'd probably regret asking.

 

" _What do you want, _____?_ "

 

Finally being addressed your brimming ecstasy morphed into mushy warmth, taking over your expression, too.

This change however did not calm the racing mind of the old soldier at all.

Not even a little bit.

What could you want? He had better and more pressing matters to attend to than stand around chatting senselessly with you. Or so he told himself - honestly, deep inside he was even relieved to see your person hidden behind the knocks on his door. Had it been any other he'd probably have gotten irked over the interruption, but was it you committing domestic disturbance he just couldn't muster up the callousness to actually be upset.

Damn you and your secret passages!

This is not what he signed up for when he came back upon the Recall!

 

Growing increasingly more embittered over his own impotence when it came to you the middle-aged man was finally graced with knowledge.

 

" _Could I come in?_ ", you inquired curiously, joy in your voice, eyes pinned to his.

Hearing euphoria through your voice was never a good sign.

Sighing the ex-commander stepped aside and gestured into the room. He knew he stood no chance brushing you off now anyway, you very obviously wanted something from him, whatever that may be, and you certainly wouldn't let up on your purpose now that you had made it to him in the flesh.

You deserved serious recognition for your dominance over him, even if he only gave it to you reluctantly.

 

Once the door was shut back in place again and you situated Soldier: 76 shuffled over to his desk, scraping some paper into a pile and returning some order to the mess sprawled out across his work space.

He'd do anything to pretend he was busy right now and escape your mercilessly gleeful eyes.

Meanwhile you leisurely surveyed the room, smile ever-present, and kept quiet.

Almost Soldier: 76 dared to believe he could make it out of this one, but only until he felt your stare kindling goosebumps on his back.

Closing his eyes he inhaled deeply.

Don't let yourself be sucked in, keep cleaning up your desk.

Don't be bothered, ignore it.

Ignore it.

 

For the longest time the tall man succeeded in stalling you, but all good things had to come to an end.

 

" _Soooooo ..._ ", you strung out the word more than it was necessary, pointing out that you demanded his attention now.

Pretending not to notice this, Soldier: 76 merely glimpsed over his shoulder, a halfheartedly interested grunt following and kept on meddling with his various papers, books and pens.

At that you pushed yourself off the dresser you were leaning against, making your way into the center of the room, closer to him.

When he simply withdrew his focus from you and devoted it back to the apparently much more relevant chaos of his desk than you were, you tilted to the side, making attempt at peeking past him as if you could catch his eyes and lure them back on you.

Naturally you could not.

Instead you spoke up again to achieve your goal.

 

" _Slow day today, hm?_ ", you asked introductory and stole a glance at him, " _... do you ... know what day today is?_ "

It was a given that you and him both knew what day today was, and he knew you knew this, yet you asked in the hope that he would strike up the intended topic himself.

Much to your disappointment he didn't play along.

 

" _Of course I know what day today -tsk-_ ", he clicked his tongue at you, gathering everything he had in him to actually appear and sound peeved enough to convince you, " _Be clear now. What's this about? I can waste my time on my own, I don't need you to-_ "

He didn't get to finish that thought.

Instead when he turned around for good this time he found a small package right in front of his nose, rendering him bewildered for a few seconds.

 

" _Happy Birthday, Jack!_ "

 

You were beaming like the sun itself as you held his present out to him, all that anticipation and passion for today radiating off of you in pleasant, beckoning vibes, clashing crassly with the slowly bedimming atmosphere around Soldier: 76 who was glowering first at the package and next at you.

It was as if you were the birthday child and not him, as if he was the envious big brother grimly watching his sibling dive into the mountains of presents, cakes, balloons and other kindness everybody bathed them in on this special day, mumbling curses and complaints under his breath because no one would make such a great fuss about his birthday anymore.

You however refused to be intimidated or dulled by his growing gloom and kept smiling nevertheless.

 

" _I know it's not much and I should've probably gotten you something more suitable, but it's a present coming from the heart, I swear, I really put a lot of thought into this to make you happy and-_ "

 

Your excited rambling found an abrupt end when the aging soldier suddenly planted himself in front of you, shoulders straight, chest out and reaching his full height.

The sight shut you up effectively while your eyes wandered up to meet his with an unsettling premonition.

Towering over you Soldier: 76 had rarely worn an expression so oppressive and furious.

Now your eyes widened out of dismay instead of glee.

And even though Mercy and Reinhardt had so kindly warned you ahead of time, you were still not prepared for what came now.

 

" _I don't celebrate my birthday._ "

Drily his voice hung in the air, firm and with anger lurking in its depths, anger that noticeably vibrated in his words though and froze all your enthusiasm and joy immediately.

With a single sentence he made you feel awkward and out of place.

Right now you were the one who wanted to run.

But he would not leave it at a single line.

 

" _How do you know the date?_ ", he hissed dangerously, his eyes tearing you into pieces before he could.

 

When he received nothing but silence, his scowl intensified alarmingly.

 

"Don't make me repeat myself! "

 

His words came pressed past his lips with such fierce stress you felt as if he had hit you with his pulse rifle.

Meekly trying to hang on to your merry spirits you forced a smile and answered.

 

" _I uh- well, I looked around in the old records Winston keeps of the first Overwatch days and I thought it'd be nice to treat you to a little something because you always seem so ... unhappy ... and ... uh---_ "

As you spoke that frail smile of yours faded further and further as did the delight in your features, your voice losing volume with every word that dared leaving your lips. Simultaneously the looming threat that was Soldier: 76 rose to terrifying heights and you suddenly felt like a mouse facing off with a lion, puny and exposed, without any defenses or possible chances to escape from the dangerous fangs above.

Never had you felt this daunted in his presence.

And you were sure he had never been this riled either.

Unable to think of anything soothing in this situation all you could do now was look up at the tall soldier with shaken eyes.

 

" _You do realize this is classified information?! What gave you the right to trespass into the confidential files of Overwatch?! Even if it all lies in the past you are absolutely not entitled to spy into old documents no matter how long ago they've been written! Did Winston give you permission?_ ", he boomed at you without any warning and you felt each word stabbing you deeply. His voice like a tornado whirling past you, ripping you off your feet and into the sky's boundlessness where you'd meet your demise.

Abashed you lowered your gaze, biting down on your lower lip.

For Soldier: 76 this only affirmed his priorly voiced doubts and gave him even more reason to raise his volume to brutal pitches.

 

" _I think not! How dare you presume the right to invade my privacy! Without my consent to view my files you are to keep your nose out of what is my and only my business! My-_ ", there he halted for just the split of a second, as if in denial of what he was about to say, " _\- name and birth date aren't anyone's business and especially not yours! Don't you ever call that name again, I've left it behind and it better stays there! And get that box out of my face, I don't want it!_ "

 

Now you scowled right back at him.

 

" _But I just wanted to-_ ", you intercepted in an uproar of self-defense, feeling treated very unfairly.

But your gut feeling told you you couldn't and wouldn't win this one.

 

" _No!_ "

 

" _But I didn't do any harm, I just-_ "

 

" _NO!_ "

 

" _But I-_ "

 

" _SHUT YOUR MOUTH!_ "

 

The last commando you obeyed through sheer shock of the impact his voice physically left on your frame. You were sure you had sensed the thundering sound wave of his bark crashing against you, pushing you back an inch - and even if it had not, it still intimidated you nonetheless.

Creeping up on you now was actual fright, feeling its icy claws clutching and ripping at every bone in your body.

You had made him so mad.

This wasn't at all how you had painted this out to happen.

No, this was horrible.

You failed to understand why on earth Soldier: 76 was so bottomlessly enraged by your kind intentions, you had overstepped your limits by prying into those documents maybe, yes, but that still was no reason to pluck you to pieces like a flower in a game of He loves me ... he loves me not. And with such savagery, too.

It was almost barbaric with what vicious obstinacy he trampled over you again and again.

You must've really struck an insanely sensitive nerve with him this time.

And he made sure to have you pay for it.

 

By the look on your face he knew he was achieving his objective.

Each word he fired at you drove you closer to the edge, left another dark bruise on you, invisible to the eye but hurtful to the soul. You winced at every syllable that flung from his lips like a missile locked on you, ears protesting as did your heart, begging, screaming for you to run and retreat, save yourself from this open field where a miss was impossible.

You knew better than to wrap yourself in blind naivety and believe he was just being angry to match his image, no, this time he was angry, with pure ire woven into his ever fiber and all of it was blowing off on you - when finally he broke the very ground you were standing on.

 

" _I don't need your cordiality! I don't need any of your oh-so pure attentions! You may think you're making a difference with your compassion but let me assure you it doesn't mean squat!_ "

The earthquake that was his voice now cleaved abyssal cracks into your already instable foundation and coldly watched as you were hauled into the nothingness below.

His last word rang in your ears even minutes after they had been said.

Speechlessly you stared up at him now.

Opposite of you he was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling as if he had just run a marathon.

All this just from yelling at you.

 

You didn't know what to say, even if, you felt your own inability to do so. Barely you risked to breathe, flat and quick breaths, afraid even just the smallest sound of them would unleash the next storm on you. And you knew it would be your end.

Feeling another emotion aside of terror erupting inside your chest you swiftly lowered your head, biting down on your lip to distract yourself with the sharp pain, to no avail though and you began switching between bites, squeezes, sucking and struggling to breathe just to delay what you knew was coming.

Your eyes were shut tightly, only revealed by slowly rising lids again when you compelled a pathetic smile onto your lips.

Your head straightened up, gaze lined with his.

 

" _I - ... My apologies_ ", you wheezed mumly, voice too broken to function - you too broken to function.

Sniffling just once you rapidly got moving, rushed up to the cluttered desk, leaving the small package you held in trembling hands of ice all while avoiding his eyes at any cost. You didn't care if he was paying attention to you now or not, even favored the latter for once.

 

" _Sorry, I- I gotta go---_ "

Your voice finally shattered at the last word and got stuck in your throat like a fat plug, robbing you of your abilities to speak or breathe and with it came the first searing teardrop that rolled down your cheek, etching a wet track like acid into your skin.

The first feeble, quivering breath you took already on his doorstep, once past picking up your pace to a run down the hallway - you just wanted to get away from that place now, get away from him who you had so desperately wanted to see today, him who you had so desperately wanted to please even if it was just for today.

You had done anything but this.

You had ruined his day for all you knew - and you had done it all on your own.

What a godawful person you were.

 

At first he had sternly remained in place, unwilling to look at you and seem to care what he had done. At the sound of your voice snapping however even his pigheadedness caved in under the heart-rendering pitch spiraling down and he glanced over his shoulder at your now slumping, fragile back that had his deadly glare fading instantly, replacing it with a flash of oncoming concern.

Concern you never saw.

His tired blue eyes watched you hurry out the door and even more down the corridor until you vanished in the shadows. He picked up on the first sob wrecking through you just before he lost sight of your frame. And he knew you were crying, he knew you were crying your eyes out, and he knew you would be crying for a long time from now. Lingering anger obstructed the mental image of your devastated expression, granting him blissful ignorance and temporary immunity.

He had been right in his reasons and actions after all. You had gone too far this time, you had actually made so bold as to snoop around in his data, his past, his regrets, things he wanted to forget and let the past be past and you had seen them all.

How absolutely impudent and shameless of you!

He was your senior, how could you show such disrespect to him. Not to mention the general offense of breaking into classified files.

Though part of him was not even resentful about the actual transgression.

It feared much more for the things you might've come across and the things you thought of him now. What was written in those countless reports and papers could very well flip the way you viewed him upside down entirely.

And he couldn't have that.

He couldn't take that.

If he lost your faith out of all, he'd ...

No, you had definitely gone too far. He was in the right and you were simply in the wrong. That was all.

His assertive crudity had been valid, a just thing that had to be done. He couldn't let you run around believing you could get away with just about anything in his presence after all, he had to put you in your place.

It was all right. He was right.

Nothing to rack his brain about much further.

 

 

But his brain did rack itself about the incident much, much further.

For a couple of hours Soldier: 76 had made attempts at getting his game on again, to focus on necessary tasks, a workout maybe, preparations for the next missions, even just maintaining his rifle. Weak attempts they turned out to be though. And the ex-commander had to admit to it.

It did bother him.

The prior attitude he had given you bothered him. A whole lot, goddammit.

He so badly wanted to believe that every word he had said he had been entitled to say but time and time again your shaking shoulders flashed through his memory, the pitiful smile you had worn when saying sorry - the feverish, frantic tears he knew you had sealed away to not lose your face in front of him but nevertheless conquered you once his eyes were no longer there to torment you.

In those moments he had thought himself so unquestioningly justified.

So blinded by impetuous irritation that he had forgotten about the most essential.

This was still you.

It was still you who believed and supported him at any place, at any time, who would step up when he deemed it too much of a hassle to fight for himself, who enjoyed annoying the heck out of him solely for the purpose of breathing some life into the same monotonous days he had long ceased to count.

It was still you, you without whom his life would be nothing more than mere existence rather than actual living.

And in his foolish, childish temper he had driven you away until you fell off the cliffside behind you with his own two hands.

The old soldier stopped in his tracks now, lost in the middle of his usually so familiar four walls and rubbed his neck in distraught manner, closing his eyes, brows furrowed to deep creases of age-old distress. A low, rolling sigh came from the back of his throat, making his frustration imminent. Remaining still for a couple of seconds his worn royal blue eventually drifted its way sneakily towards the desk without his permission, locking with the small box placed atop the many papers there.

Maybe ... he should at least give you as much credit as to look at your present.

That was the least he could do now. It would only be polite.

 

A few more minutes Soldier: 76 beat around the bush nevertheless though, procrastinating what made him feel uncomfortably wrong in his own skin. It was all because of this box after all, that meek, square thing you had brought with you thinking just of his happiness - which ironically ended up bringing anything but his happiness upon you.

He couldn't run forever though and gave in to the bidding attention with another heavy sigh heaving his chest before he lazily, reluctantly so scuffed over to the table.

Confronted with the plain box of uncertainty he merely stared for a while, as if he could figure out anything more about the nicely wrapped up item just by drilling his eyes into it. When it would reveal nothing about itself to him, the greying ex-commander capitulated weakly and began to remove the thin covers.

Within the box unfolded lay a neatly decorated cupcake with a single, fake candy cone candle crowning the bittersweet chocolate frosting sprinkled with only two vanilla extras, the numbers 7 and 6.

Scoffing at the velvety pastry in perplexity Soldier: 76 carefully lifted it out of its container and eyed it 360°. He had to admit you sure had done an excellent job (not to mention you seemed to know he favored bittersweet chocolate). As his gaze glided over the number adorning the dark top he paused for just a second. Observing the simple but crucial detail he sensed the jolt of a feeling buried deep in his chest and only wrestled it back down with great effort, flustered and dumbstruck.

Done gawking at the cupcake and prodding the candle to determine whether or whether not it was actually edible (or dangerous, who knew), the middle-aged man set the sugary gift aside as his eyes fell onto the box once more.

Even more inconspicuous than the present itself an envelope lingered forlorn and lonely in the otherwise empty package.

Warily his mind went a hundred miles an hour, seeking to riddle what else you could have thought of with that unpredictable head of yours.

Honestly, not even he himself had an idea what to gift himself.

There was just nothing he wanted anymore.

Nothing apart from fulfilling the revenge mission he had set himself on.

It had been a long, long time since he last yearned for something other than peace, inner and outer.

He couldn't even remember the last time a materialistic achievement had excited him.

Slender envelope in hand the former soldier now turned to lean against his desk, tilting his head back in leisure, pleased by the cracking noises that carried relief into his tight muscles.

Nothing written on either side. Well, not like it was necessary, he mused.

Consciousness fading out into a flood of memories, he let it happen.

It really had been a long time.

Faintly he recalled lively, vibrant days of colorful boxes piled up in the living room just for him, heard the fluttering, airy laughter of children he once labeled his friends. There had been brighter days. Those he did yearn for, those he wished to come back to him, engulf him in the simplicity and buoyancy of a child just for one more day. Even just a single day would be fine.

But stale years of violence and persecution had drained him of all the color he once saw in the world, every drop of hope he once had of regaining the winging joy of bygone times.

There were the days he fought for justice.

Days of a battle that, in fact, had returned those wings to him for every fight won, the satisfaction of triumph for a greater cause, the greater good - for humanity itself.

Back then he dared believe the world, the real world, was painted in iridescent hues only the hands of life could conjure. Back then he dared believe the world could be saved, the world had been saved, by his hands and those of his comrades, those he trusted and had learned to love.

But those colors too, were dulled by barbaric acts and gruesome incidents that changed the course of his life's tale forever. And again he walked streets shaded in grey, dirty and dreary, until those streets became his reality and he all but forgot about the hopeful hues his noble eyes once saw all around him.

 

With a sigh Soldier: 76 withdrew himself from the melancholic nostalgia his head bore.

There was no point in chasing what had passed. What he couldn't change would only come haunting him and for the longest time he hadn't been able to shut it out.

Right now though, he could.

Vehemently he pushed aside the memories and committed himself to the thin paper his fingers held.

Once more he flipped it, wondering.

Then he tore open the envelope expertly, fishing out its content.

What he found sent more than just chills down his spine. It froze him entirely, breath and heart skipping while his eyes stared in disbelief down onto the picture that was the actual present you had worked so hard for.

On it were all recalled Overwatch agents, old like new, standing together, smiling for the camera - smiling for him.

In the lower right corner it read ' _We Are Your Overwatch_ '.

 

Blankly the old soldier's eyes rose from the familiar faces, empty and glassy. Lips apart in a slight gape his sense was wiped out, frosty void devouring him whole.

He zoned out.

 

 

Your steps slowly died away in the hallways.

You didn't know what he was doing right now, nor did you care to know.

After that utter destruction you had been submitted to just a couple of minutes prior you held not a single thought for the grim ex-commander of Overwatch.

It had just been too much.

Angrily you wiped away the tears still roaming your face only to make space for fresher, features contorted in a mixture of grievance and guilt Soldier: 76 had seeded in you.

Still it was hard for you to grasp what had just happened, how rapidly this day had gone from sunshine to thunderstorm, had you waking up to a bleak, somber, pitch-black night, bathed in sweat and tyrannized by fear.

Everything had been perfect - and then nothing was.

More than three days it had taken you to reconcile and persuade every last agent to support you in your birthday plans, many first refusing firmly for various reasons. The most common one though was the plain fact that most of your colleagues knew how Soldier: 76 had reacted to previous attempts of celebrating his birthday or even just so much as congratulate him and either they did not wish for you to run into the same brick wall or did not want to be part of it should his anger spread out to everyone involved in the gift.

Much pleading, coaxing (and blackmailing) later you eventually accomplished dragging all of them into your boat destined to sink.

And when the family picture was taken you could have sworn you had never seen everyone so calm and tender, worriless and happy even. Watching the now misfit heroes of Overwatch in such peace and tranquility moved you deeply, and set ablaze an even greater keenness to make this birthday a total success - for your all's sake and his.

He needed to share in this feeling of placidity and mutual fondness, the warm sentiment that bonded the new Overwatch.

He out of all people needed to share in it. For he was the only one grown so bitter and detached of everything and everyone and it pained you to see him all by himself even when surrounded by a massive crowd of people.

He was always alone. He was always the one turning around to yesterday while everyone marched for tomorrow.

And you knew he couldn't let go albeit he may long for it; you knew even if he tried, once he'd close his eyes he'd be back where his misery started and do it all over again.

And you were willing to do anything it took to break this vicious cycle for him.

That this would not be an easy endeavor had been clear to you from the start. But that it would stretch to such hopeless limits you had never guessed.

If he just wasn't such a mule!

Again you were overcome with disheartening chagrin and gritted your teeth, failing in your efforts of keeping the tears at bay.

Why did he have to be so thick-skinned and insensitive about it.

All you were trying to do was bring some joy into his life - if what he had could even be called a life!

Everything you did, you did with his happiness in mind.

It was all just for him.

Why couldn't he just let you in? Why couldn't he allow himself to find pleasure in something again for once?

Whipping your head to the sides wildly you blocked more frustration from invading your heart and stood calm, rubbing over your wet eyes in a massaging fashion for a few seconds before you kept on walking.

 

 

You destination had been clear.

Not long you wandered around the Overwatch base until you found your ideal place, where you would come when your mind was plagued and torn by worry, fear or sorrow and needed comfort.

Beeping softly was the large robot of warm earthy tones, quietly seated at one of the kitchen tables, seemingly conversing with his ever-present avian friend.

You stood in the door without making a sound and just watched him for a moment, soaking up the innocent harmony Bastion emitted whenever he did not have to fight.

Wordlessly you then headed over to him, propping yourself on one of his massive thigh pieces.

You needn't ask, you knew that.

For almost the entire time ever since you had joined Overwatch the robotic unit and you shared an understanding of each other despite the lack of actual communication between you. Bastion could not speak, but you understood; you spoke and he followed.

Perhaps it was just because of this absence of words that you had instantly felt safe and soothed around the youthfully curious machine.

He was simply there, listened and offered a shoulder to cry on. He never expected anything in return. The invested beeps of solace and advice from him consoled and encouraged you more than any other. And he was so untypically compassionate and tame in nature that it was impossible for you not to love him.

Whenever you were at a loss, you sought him out.

Even if it was only so much as sitting with him on a meadow or watching the sunset, it would return energy and ambition to your tired bones, revive the optimism you prided yourself in and yet lost occasionally.

And so you came to him now, too, reaching for his peace that rivaled that of Zenyatta.

The robot didn't mind.

In fact it had become such a normality for the two of you that he did not even interrupt his task - this you did not mind.

Only when his visor detected a sharp twist of your features he turned his head to questioningly observe you as new tears formed and fell faster than you knew it was happening and just sat there mutely, no sobs, no whimpers, no heavy breaths shaking you, just the silent tears trickling off your chin and blurring your vision.

He knew in stages like this it was best not to utter a single beep for a while, you needed his comfort, so much was evident, but the you right now yearned for a rock in the breakers and nothing more, no dramatic speeches or emotional reassurances, just a presence with you you trusted keeping you company.

Usually you would, at some point, open up to him and monologue whatever thoughts or happenings had disturbed your cheery soul, but when even after half an hour had passed in dead silence your lips still hadn't moved, nor had your expression or the endless streaks of tears, Bastion tilted his head, thinking, and then looked at his treasured bird, once again letting out mellow, warm beeps, restarting the conversation he and his comrade had had earlier.

And the robot knew exactly what you needed. Even though his adorable noises weren't meant for you they brought you peace of mind, slowly seeping into your inner turmoil, coating it all in a layer of luxurious silk that contoured your disarranged thoughts and stole the pressure they left on you.

Soon all left of the fat tears on your cheeks were pooling blobs of salty crystals and puffy, red lids.

 

Not much later a certain beefy German came clattering into the shared kitchen.

" _Oh, hallo, Bastion!_ ", he boomed with a wide, endearing grin plastered all over his face, " _How's the tin can today?_ "

With said 'tin can' rapidly beeping a surely offended response Reinhardt snickered into his silvern beard and made his way over to the line of cupboards, when his good eye fell onto your frame and he stopped in his tracks, immediately spotting that something was very off, the leftover tears glistening in your eyes.

He pondered for a moment, just staring at you while you reflected his gaze back at him in a much more impassive manner.

" _You alright there, kid?_ ", he asked empathetically, his mien darkening, seriousness taking over his jovial expression.

Holding his eyes for a moment longer you then pulled out a weakly faked, but all the more honestly acrimonious smile for the large man.

 

" _You were right_ ", is all you said.

 

And Reinhardt understood with just that, averting his eyes as he could imagine very well how you felt, shared in your inner anguish and simultaneously sensed an uproar of soreness bubbling up in his big chest.

That Dummkopf!

He had seriously managed to drive off the one person that still actually gave a damn about his immature, embarrassing constipation of feelings!

So many years on the hump and still he threw fits like a child!

Low growls of disapproval rumbled through the brawny senior as he cursed his former commander.

He needed to pull himself together and start acting his age, being so ungrateful and ridiculously grumpy over such heartfelt niceties he received while doing absolutely nothing to deserve them.

What a fool.

It wasn't fair, treating you the way he did.

Mentally the elderly hero noted a memo to himself to haul the soldier over the coals next time he crossed his path. Right now though it mattered more to tend to your wounds and bring back that dazzling smile he knew and loved.

 

Maneuvering himself towards his prior target Reinhardt compelled his grim face into a caring one, eyes gentle and understanding that came back around to you once he had reached the cupboards above the giant stove.

" _Can I get you anything, kid? How about a hot chocolate?_ ", rang his husky bass voice in obvious intent to console and you lazily turned to look at him again, merely nodding after debating the offer.

Despite the plain primitiveness of such cliché comfort, you were thankful.

And even more thankful for having such good friends to rely on.

While you sat quietly with Bastion and his tiny comrade Reinhardt's deep humming was the only thing reverberating through the room as he got himself some cold beer and prepared your hot choco, peacefully smiling to himself to keep the atmosphere light and beneficial for you.

 

 

Night long fallen a lone soldier prowled the corridors.

Most agents where tending to their own business by now, it was late after all and there was not much to do today, nor did anyone really wish to bring up any plans for ... certain reasons.

Thus the base was silent and solitary for the most part and the middle-aged agent welcomed it in delight.

It wasn't so much that he was an old man who needed his peace and quiet around a specific hour, but rather that in his current state of mind he really was not willing to interact with anyone.

He was on a mission.

A very important mission.

And he feared if he talked to anyone but you he would blow up again.

Or worse, lose his determination and turn back.

 

It took Soldier: 76 quite a while to locate where you hid yourself from his sight for the last few hours.

Of course he would never admit to it, but he had meticulously combed through nearly half of the gigantic Overwatch post, making sure to appear as if he was patrolling the area in ordinary fashion, on his search for you.

When he found you in the kitchen, he figured he deserved all that pointless time spent looking around.

Much like you hours prior Soldier: 76 stood in the door frame, though with an almost rueful, submissive expression. Well, as far as a grown, prideful man like him could put on such a face. It was not more than a vibe, really, a detail wound into his rough, chiseled features, a detail you would have surely caught up on, but would be missed by others.

And so did Reinhardt and Bastion who were the first to turn their attention to the ex-commander.

The two sweethearts had insisted on staying by your side until your mind would not relapse back to the ghastly way you felt before and since all three of you knew it would be a while before your thoughts ceased to circle around that grumpy old man, you didn't object.

They were good to you and good for you. And that was direly needed.

A few small smiles they had sneakily drawn out of you already doing what they did best, being the silly, lovable friends they were. While Bastion was simply the embodiment of cuteness and tranquility, Reinhardt struggled along in his attempts to cheer you up. He was kind of awkward in his ways, awkward and loud, never directly uttering words of comfort but rather dropping encouragement in general or joking around. One time he slapped your back so hard you nearly smacked into the table. But you didn't mind. He meant well and his unorthodox ways did work on you. Not long into the conversation you felt weight lifting off your shoulders and evaporating into thin air and could not have been more contented, only to have all of it and more come crashing back down to bury you when you too turned your head, eyes falling upon Soldier: 76 much to your surprise.

Your face remained still and blank, just looking at the grizzled man with worn out, sore eyes. It was hard to miss that you had been crying violently.

Since Bastion could not grimace Reinhardt took on that duty for both of them and sent a dangerously grim stare Soldier's way. He however was locked with your gaze, needing much force to drag his eyes away from you and to the other two, immediately feeling punched in the face at the sight before him.

So they knew. Aah, crap, this wouldn't go away that easily now, would it?

Reminiscing about the many times Reinhardt had taken offense for you when you had been scolded by him let the aging soldier shudder internally - he knew how protective that bulky friend of his could get over you - and how vehemently he kept those grudges.

With a deep but flat breath Soldier: 76 closed his eyes, preparing for whatever he had coming his way now.

 

" _______ ", fell your name from his lips and had you nearly jolting albeit his tone was much softer than earlier, " _Could I talk to you? Alone_ ", he added, seasoned, deep blue eyes back on you.

As much as you wanted to, you could not turn him down, nor escape those charming, old eyes you adored so much.

Lowering your own in silence for a short moment you then turned to your comfort company and gave a faint nod, assuring them that it was okay, you were okay and you would be even if they left now, however they only complied when your eyes stayed loyal to what your head told them.

Without a word Reinhardt and Bastion rose from their seats, Bastion being the first to trips out of the room, little birdie in tow. While the echoes of his machinery working to move the giant robot filled the air, your knight in shining armor friend Reinhardt passed by Soldier much slower, exchanging a swift, soundless chat with him.

" _If you go yelling about at her again, I promise you, Jack-_ ", threatened his single, dark eye down at his friend.

" _I won't_ ", was the plain reply Soldier: 76's tired eyes mirrored back.

Still not believing that gaze entirely Reinhardt nevertheless took off for your sake.

Only when his heavy armored steps had died away into the prior nothingness outside Soldier: 76 stirred for the first time ever since arriving in the kitchen door, slowly made his way around the table you were sitting at and plopped down opposite of you.

Now there was utter quiet, awkward air spreading over you like thick fog.

For nearly a good five minutes it seemed as though everything had stopped, time, space, you and him.

Despite the preceding controversy between the both of you, not a dab of unpleasantness or fright invaded you, there was no inelegance in you although you should be in raging disarray, no, you were absolutely calm, but not because your mind had finally settled with the earlier fight, but because you were simply too impassive and spent to care. You did not have enough energy left for the day to actually fall back into the frantic state you had been in before.

And you relished this feeling of indifference to the fullest.

 

On the other side Soldier: 76 was not entirely sure where to begin.

His thoughts were uncharacteristically sloppy, cluttering his mind and yet too slippery for him to grasp.

There were too many things he had recited over and over in his head that he wanted to speak to you about. And right now none of all that seemed to be right or feasible to him.

He had so many things he needed to say to you. After all that ... he owed you as much.

Oh, how he had been wrong.

He had been so wrong.

All that resolute talk about how his actions and words had been justified, how you had overstepped one line too many with him, all that nonsense his mind had made up in ire to convince himself and spare him the guilt trip that would have come either way.

It had all been wrong.

All you had tried to do, were ever trying to do, was making him happy.

God, how could he ever resent you for that. You may be pushing boundaries and gambling great risks in your means, but you never had ill intents for anyone, especially not him.

No, not you. He couldn't hold your wellmeant temerity against you.

After all you did it all for him. Just for such an old, hopeless man like him. Everyone had long given up on the attempt to change his life for the better because he would fight back in such relentless vigor.

And then there was you.

A presence in his life and place in his heart he had never expected to run into this late in his life.

You were with those that marched for tomorrow while he turned to yesterday, but still you would halt, glimpse back at him and take his arm, tugging him along with that disarming smile of yours.

You wouldn't leave him behind although he wanted to be.

And that meant more to him than he could ever put into words.

 

The stillness of the former soldier across the table came crawling up your back after ten minutes had passed. It was quite unnerving to know there was a serious talk to come but not when and the more minutes snuck past you the closer you felt yourself inching towards a state of emotional upheaval again.

When you threw him a gaze, prompting him to speak up already but he did not budge, you did instead.

 

" _76, really, if this is so uncomfortable for you as it is for me then don't push yourself_ ", you said, voice subdued and slightly hoarse, " _It's alright._ "

At your sudden words Soldier: 76 piqued up from his loss in thoughts and met your eyes, noting how they were still lacking the warm shimmer to them he secretly chased after whenever he could.

He realized you were as much done with this whole day as he was and he loathed himself for draining you of your joy to this extent.

Well, it was now or never.

A gravely sigh fleeing his lips he grazed through his face before looking at you again.

 

" _About earlier ..._ ", he then began, eyes stuck on you like nails in a wall.

" _... you do realize you could have done all that a lot smoother, right? You didn't have to break your way into classified files and-_ "

 

You already stopped listening there.

Huffing out an exasperated groan you sprung up from your seat with great force.

 

" _I don't need another lecture from you, 76, I get it already! I've had enough for today and I'd rather get some rest now, thank you!_ ", you barked at him with frustration and annoyance swelling in your chest and sharply spun on your heel, almost knocking over the chair you had been seated on, ready to storm off and ditch the ex-commander without a second thought.

He couldn't be serious. Another lecture, really? After that crude preaching he had poured down on you earlier, he seriously wanted to chide you again? Just because he wasn't absolutely outraged anymore while doing it didn't mean it was necessary. He couldn't think you'd actually listen to all of it a second time.

Going up the wall because of his unbelievable bullheadedness you were the one fuming now.

Already one step in your rush out of the room, a warm, craggy hand caught yours.

 

You were yanked back a few inches through the momentum your unfinished step had, your shoulder protesting in ache.

 

" _No, wait-_ "

 

Only when you heard that raucous, beloved voice clashing with your ears you turned to peer behind you.

Meeting with a forlorn expression by Soldier: 76 you froze and stared.

 

" _Ack- that wasn't right ..._ ", the greying ex-commander cursed under his breath as his voice lost volume and he now stood there, averting his eyes as if hectically searching for something.

When he realized what he was searching for would not be found, his shoulders appeared to slump.

Again, he sighed. Eyebrows crinkled.

He kept his eyes shielded from you.

 

" _Look ... all that - is not what I wanted to say._ "

 

" _What I wanted to say was ... I'm sorry._ "

 

Your eyes grew wide, perplexity swamping you.

 

" _I really am ... what I said - back there, too ... wasn't right._ "

 

Now the soldier you had broken rose his head again, eyes of weary, endless blues instantly finding yours.

 

" _... I've never -- received anything like your present ..._ "

 

" _It's perfect._ "

 

A thank you you did not expect anymore, did not need him to say anymore.

The way he looked at you, crushed and defeated, regretting ever single second you had spent arguing today in this very moment, there wasn't anything at all anymore you needed him to say or do.

This was enough; this was good.

Even though there was much unsaid that the soldier felt, you had seen it all.

Those few words had been enough.

They were all it took you to lay him bare entirely.

And you saw all of him.

His hand around yours, clinging, a smile came and stayed.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phewwww this got looooooong omg
> 
> sorry to all those that hate long oneshots aah I was really worried about the length, but I couldn't help writing this out nnnhh
> 
> yeah this is a little more serious oneshot than the others and there's at least one more that will be like this - though I'm not sure when I get to write the next one! I'll do my best though ♥


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